reverberate
by kacetheace
Summary: [v] - (in physics) to be reflected many times / the first time either of them shoots a man, they learn how gunshots echo.
1. Nell

The first time Nell shoots someone in self-defense, she just does. In one simple action, she took a life. There was no hesitation behind her pulling the trigger, because she knew it was her life or his. She had a shot, and she took it, like any good field agent would do.

That didn't mean there wasn't any guilt.

In the moments between her single gunshot and discovery in the bathroom, she had plenty of time to acquaint herself with the dead man at her feet, bleeding out from a wound she inflicted. In those minutes, all she could think about were the people that brought him into the world, and who this man really was. People don't appear in the world with the sole goal of killing, and all she can do is imagine the events that led to where he ended up.

It takes months, years even, and good therapy until she is able to look back on the incident without feeling some sense of remorse. She described her feelings to Nate once as regret, something he quickly sought an end to:

"Nell, the decision you made in those seconds saved your life. No matter what you feel now, after the fact, you had some feeling then, in the moment, that your actions weren't the best, but the best in the circumstance. Do not be sorry for, or regret, your continued existence."

At the time he explains that to her, all she can do is nod through red hair and tears, hoping that some day she will understand.

Before then, her world had to keep spinning. Her internal dilemma wouldn't stop the day-to-day, and regardless of inner turmoil, her life would be forced to continue.

Snapping out of it was never a permanent option - it was a temporary solution that was no substitute for years of reflection, contemplation, and realization.

Nell knows that if she goes into the field again, if something goes wrong, another incident could happen. The possibility is inevitable, and terrifying.

She never fully 'gets over', per say, her first shooting, but she learns to get past it.

Yet, the click of her gun's safety would sound in her dreams for years to come.


	2. Eric

Eric has ruined lives before, but never in a way where he had to see the damage. He's capable of wrecking lives in cyberspace, erasing years, information, even people. There was never any doubt in his mind that his keystrokes referred to real, live, living people, with lives and families and a personality, and so much blood.

It was the carnage he wasn't expecting.

He doesn't shoot the suspect in a traditional way, or in any way, really. His gunshot caused the vehicle to explode, killing the man in the process. It was a situation that could never be replicated - the same circumstances would be exceptionally rare, with a shot like that one only happening on the rarest occasions.

A shot that, regardless, determined life or death.

So, like his training taught him to, he aimed, pulled the trigger, and let the bullets fly. He hit his target, just like his training taught him to.

It wasn't training he had sought out on his own - in fact, it had been a seminar he was pushed into, the only proposed way for him to keep working in the field from a purely technical standpoint. It was routine and supposedly preventative.

What did it prevent, actually? The idea that he could be responsible for someone's death? That he'd snip a lifeline?

Yet, those moments were less about remembering his training and more about protection. His life wasn't the only one on the line, and all he could focus on was her safety too. When he pulled his sidearm to aim, his first action was to push her down, out of harm's way. The irony of the situation is realized later - prioritizing the safety of one before killing another.

Regardless, as they sit knee to knee in the boatshed hours later, their faces inches apart, he's never felt further away from someone. In that moment, he feels like he's betrayed her - but knows she understands. Their situation is a convenient distraction to contrast his internal conflict. What they're facing is a different kind of new, less sharp and more dull - laced with age and expectancy, not red-hot and piercing.

He knows enough to seek help, and does just that. He's just one man; one man with a job description that changes by the minute, but a mortal man nonetheless.

Eventually, he can breathe without hesitation, hear loud noises without flinching, not duck his head at flashes of light. It's not a transition that happens overnight, but when it does, it's like the flip of a switch.

The woods still make him anxious, and not even time will change that.


End file.
